Dead Rising
by KToTheWow
Summary: A body at the doorstep of Harry Dresden's office causes a rise in suspicion with his rumored partnership with Marcone and Karrin Murphy decided on a solution to solve this problem by assigning Harry a partner: Mark Whelms from Fletcher, Illinois. Together, they try to find the one behind the murders, but run into some undead ends. It ain't easy being a wizard.


**Recommended Reads:**

 **"Storm Front" by Jim Butcher**

 **Mark Whelms, P.I. #1: "Mind Games" by Kevin Lau**

 **Chapter One**

When a person goes missing, someone files a Missing Person case.

When the missing person is found dead, someone calls in forensics.

When the forensics feel like they might be stumped, they call in Special Investigations for insurance.

And when Special Investigations feel like they might be in a bit over their head, they call your old pal Harry Dresden.

That's me, by the way. I was particularly enjoying a rather slow day at work, a week after that lakehouse fiasco, sitting at my desk and finishing up another one of my paperbacks when the phone rang. It was Karrin Murphy from Special Investigations, wanting me to come to a crime scene that was literally outside the the office building I worked in.

So I made my way downstairs, dressed in cowboy boots and my lucky duster, my blasting rod hanging in the thing of it just in case. In a city like Chicago, you never know when magic will come in handy to defend yourself. As I made my way down the stairs, I was thinking about what exactly had happened outside my own office. I know I wasn't in the greatest of areas in the city, but couldn't the crime be a couple blocks south?

Once I reached the outdoor city air from the front door, I was only a mere two feet away from the yellow tape. Already a couple of forensics were on the scene, taking pictures of something I couldn't quite see. Karrin Murphy, standing just 5 feet tall, was blocking the way and facing me with a look that told me I was either in trouble, or going to be.

"Don't you just love the smell of crime in the morning?" I asked her with a wry smile. I try to make the best of situations.

She stood there, the wind blowing her long, golden hair, and her blue eyes piercing into my soul. Not literally. I know this because I've looked into the souls of others before. Murphy and I haven't soulgazed yet, and to do that we would have to make eye contact. She could never make eye contact with me, so her gaze went more towards my nose.

"I appreciate you trying to lighten the mood, Dresden." She said. "But I think you might want to reconsider given the situation."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

She stepped to her right, revealing what the forensic guys were photographing.

It was definitely shocking. In front of me had to be human with its body cut off from the waist and its flesh completely rotten. It looked like something straight out of a good zombie flick, and thank God it wasn't moving or else I would have flipped.

"Jesus Christ." I muttered.

"A jogger called it just twenty minutes ago." Murphy said as she stood by me. We've worked together enough to where it didn't feel strange next to someone with a fourteen-inch difference in height. "We're taking a DNA sample to the station to get an ID."

I walked toward the body, ducking under the police tape as I did so, and knelt next to the victim. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and held out my right hand over the dead man's head (at least, I was sure it was a man due to the shape of the chin). Being a well-trained wizard, not to brag or anything, I can see the final moments of someone's death. Not a clear one like a constant video, but more of a montage of all the five senses.

But this time, there was nothing.

I concentrated harder, putting more pressure on pulling the elements around me: The soft wind flowing through the streets, the bright, sunny day, the fact that Karrin Murphy is still alive and well.

But still, nothing happened.

"Excuse me, Mr. Constipation." Said a voice to my right.

I opened my eyes and looked up to see who was talking. "Mr. Constipation?"

It was some kid about eighteen or nineteen, wearing a red tee and dark blue jeans. "I tried being clever and that was the result." He said nonchalantly.

I sighed and stood up. The kid was maybe a head taller than Murphy, making him almost as tall and my shoulders. He was also very thin. Not "unhealthy" thin, but more like he spent his whole life in front of a computer.

"This is a crime scene, kid." I said, turning to look at Murphy.

"And I'm a private investigator on this case." He shot back.

I looked back at him and scoffed. "Really? You're, what, eighteen?"

"And 206 days, thank you very much."

Murphy stepped in between us. "You idiots, it's not a contest. Dresden, this is Mark Whelms, an investigator from Fletcher."

I tried to remember the map of Illinois. "That's a couple towns south from here, maybe a one hour drive. What brings you here, kid?"

"Detective Murphy found me in the phone book."

I looked at Karrin. "And why did you do that?"

She shrugged. "Kid has a good record from finding stuff out of nothing. I called the chief and head detective of Fletcher and they all vouched for him."

"I also specialize in paranormal cases." Mark chimed in.

"And," Murphy added, "I figured you could use a hand in this case."

"Whoa whoa whoa." I said, putting my hands up. "Did you say 'help'? I don't need help, let alone help from a kid."

"I was under the impression I was working alone." Mark said, casting me a sideways glare.

"You think you can do this alone?" I asked him. "You're too young for this, kid. A man got half of his body ripped up and I'm willing to bet he had a better chance of surviving than you would."

"Hey, I'm not as stupid as most teenagers." He shot back. "Or did you forget the part when Karrin said I was actually good at my job?"

"I didn't forget." I said, turning to stand over him. "I have it right up in my noggin. However, I don't want some kid getting in my way and getting killed."

"Shut up!" Murphy shouted.

Mark and I both looked at her.

"For love of God, can't you two keep your testosterone levels down?" She let out a frustrated sigh. "Dresden, as much as I want to trust you, but now there's suspicion that you're working under Marcone. Or is that info already up in your noggin?"

Honestly, I had already forgotten about it. It was during my case last week and I didn't think much about it. That was probably why business was slow, people believing whatever rumors they could get their hands on.

"I've hired Mark Whelms to help you on the case." Murphy continued. "I think he's a valuable asset too, as you might find out. The main reason I have him with you is to help your image, prove that you're really not with Marcone. I'm trusting you on this one, Dresden. Got it?"

I nodded. "Got it, Murph."

She glared at Mark and cleared her throat like a mother trying to get her kid to confess a mistake to another adult.

"Got it." He grunted.

So now I had a partner. Just perfect.


End file.
